The Answers Lie in the Letters
by ITookTheCookiee
Summary: She's gone, they said. She's not coming back, they said. But then why did she leave a box of letters so that I would know what she had to say? All human.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer – I don't own Twilight or any of the characters.**

**A/N- I'm planning for every chapter apart from this to be in the form of a letter.**

**1. _Un_**

It happened so quickly.

A truck. A cliff. A box.

These images flash across his mind, so blurry yet so magnified as he picks it up from the many others in the box.

It has the number '1' written on the top corner.

Tears seem to cloud his misty eyes as he fruitlessly attempts to read the scrawny handwriting.

_Beginning _it says.

With shaking limbs, he carefully opens the envelope.

Maybe now he'll know why.

Maybe now he'll understand.

Maybe now all the questions that have been plaguing his mind ever since that night will be answered.

Doubt begins to cloud his mind as he grows wary. Does he really _want_ to face these answers?

Is he really _ready _to face reality?

He has to. He cannot live in this state of in-between for much longer.

The answers, they lie in his palm and within that box.

He needs to know, he must.

He sighs and begins to read the first of many letters.

**A/N- I haven't abandoned I'm not Sick, but this idea has been in my mind for a while so I thought I'd post it. Please review and tell me what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer – I don't own Twilight or any of the characters.**

**2. ****_Deux_**

Dear future whomever,

We had English with Mr. Park today. He was droning on and on about Romeo and Juliet. 'They died for love' he says. I think they died because of their own foolishness. Why would someone kill themselves over a simple infatuation? Let alone with a person you met a couple of days ago? He picked on me earlier to ask about what I thought about it and if their deaths were poignant or not.

"No I don't believe that," I said.

He was stunned, I'm sure he thought that every 16 year old girl would _swoon _at the idea of dying for love. I found it deplorable, laughable even.

"But would you not agree that their love was just so intense, that their suicide was more of an outlet of such a powerful love such as theirs?" He persists.

"Is it a powerful love? No. Is it intense infatuation? Of course it is. But isn't infatuation meant to be intense? It's just such an intense yet short-lived emotion that it wasn't going to last. They died for a short-lived cause." I finish.

He nods sheepishly in response before he swiftly questions another student in the back, but I didn't mind. It left me with time to think.

Their lives, despite how much I disagreed with the reason behind their deaths, were still significant regardless. Why? Because it was written down on paper.

It's documented for all the world to read and re-read as they please. That's why it's so significant.

I wanted my life to be as significant. I wanted to actually mean something to someone.

I wanted to be remembered.

And that's when I came up with this idea.

I would write letters, on the same day every year documenting my life and events, until death winds me up in its steel grip.

So to whoever is reading this, I hope you find them at least particularly interesting.

Until next year,

Isabella

* * *

><p>He smiles ruefully to himself as he closes the first envelope. It was so refreshing to read about her before all of this. The younger Bella he didn't know about; before she chose to leave.<p>

Regardless, as a man in search of answers, he ventures on to the next envelope.

He needs to know _why_.

**A/N- Thank you for the reviews, follows and faves! These chapters will be short because they are in the form of letters, but I hope you guys like it. What do you guys think of this idea? Is it interesting? Please review and give some feedback!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer – I don't own Twilight or any of the characters.**

**3. **_**Trois**_

Dear future whomever,

I realise that I didn't properly introduce myself in the last letter. I could have scrapped that letter, crushed it up and wrote anew, but what good would that have done? The pen has already made its permanent mark on the blank sheet. The flawless white is now covered with scruffy tiny ink scratches… the damage is already done.

Besides, I already vowed to myself that I wouldn't censor anything here and I'm not going to break that promise. Promises are never made just to be broken. No matter how insignificant they may be. Never.

It would be like blowing up a balloon and keeping it. You know how fragile it is; how easily it could just _pop_. But you keep it nonetheless, trusting that it would never blow up in your face. Of course it won't. It's trustworthy you know, balloons, more trustworthy than people ever could be.

People are the exact description of disloyalty. They'll wait until your back is turned, swiftly take out that pin from within their trouser pocket and _pop _the promise is broken.

Nevertheless kind reader, I have drifted off topic. What was I talking about before I rudely interrupted myself? Ah yes, I was talking about myself. I sound so conceited right now, I know. But I can assure you, that is most definitely the truth.

Remember, no censoring here.

Anyways drifting off point once again, it's just me and my mom here. In Forks I mean. She works in the local supermarket, I have a part time job at the Newton's sporting goods store and we're making our own way in life.

Our life is so far off extravagant, but I can assure you that it's comfortable.

You may have noticed my lack of referencing to any 'father-figure'.

He left us when I was 2. Well that's what my mom says, I was too young to notice when one day he was there and the next he just… wasn't. I was too much of a hassle for him I guess.

Sometimes when I was younger I would spend hours and hours just daydreaming about packing a bag and going to find him.

"Daddy I found you!" I'd shriek and he'd run to me with that big boisterous fatherly laugh dads have and would pick me up on his shoulders like I would see the other daddies do with their little girls.

We'd laugh and cry and laugh again.

These daydreams would plague my mind all the time until… I guess I grew older and just realized that I wasn't going to see him. If he wanted to see me, he would be here, he wouldn't have left.

I remember that day. The realisation slapped me straight across the cheek and stung like hell but it was what I needed.

Daddies don't need their little girls like their little girls need them after all.

Growing up seemed like a good way to leave it all behind me; so I hid my fairy princess games and daddy daydreams within the darkest crevices of my mind and locked it shut. Then I locked it again just to make sure.

It's life I guess.

Alright, I think I've babbled enough for one letter.

Hope I didn't bore you dear reader.

Until next year,

Isabella

**A/N- Thanks for the reviews, faves and follows! Do you guys like this story so far? Please review and tell me what you think!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer – I don't own Twilight or any of the characters.**

**4. **_**Quatre**_

Dear future whomever,

I hate him.

I hate him with a passion.

I hate his constant taunting and his piercing green eyes that always seem to pick out my flaws.

I have to tell you reader, if you ever do come in contact with a certain Edward Cullen, just turn around and run. I know it seems dramatic, but I'm serious.

It's the second week of senior year and the second week of having to sit next to_ him_ in biology.

If he's not laughing at any mistakes I make in the lesson, he's laughing at me behind my back in the hallways when I walk past.

It's always been this way; ever since kindergarten.

Enough about idiotic morons with hypnotic I mean annoying eyes.

I'm not going to let him get to me, I won't let it show. I mean besides, as Audrey Hepburn said: 'Elegance is the only beauty that never fades.'

I have her picture stuck on my wall by the way; right next to Marilyn Monroe.

What can I say? I have a fifties heart.

And a fifties fashion.

And it's what Edward never fails to poke fun of apparently.

That's it.

I'm going to confront him - tomorrow.

Wish me luck.

Until next year,

Isabella

* * *

><p>He could feel his guilt shower over him as he remembers.<p>

"_Dude, I swear the day you get to Isabella is the day I'll lose fifty dollars," Emmett hollers in the already crowded hallway._

"_Shut up man," I punch him in the shoulder so he would keep his damn mouth shut, "Isabella's easy, it's just her weird clothes that freak me out man." _

"_No way, you're just making excuses now," Emmett bawls out._

"_Me make excuses? Do you have any idea who you're talking to? I'm Edward freaking Cullen and I'll prove it to you,"_

"_Well you can prove it now," he glances sideways behind me, "Coz the stiff's on her way past,"_

"_Just get that fifty ready dude," I can't help the laugh at her expense as I glance her way with plans already forming in my mind as Emmett hollers out laughter._

_Her face, I'll never forget, flashes with such kitten-like anger as she makes her way to us._

"_Yo stif- I mean Isabella," I drawl out, turning on my 'player' charm. I was going to get Emmett's fifty dollars in no time._

_Before I can register what the hell just happened, there is a stinging pain on my cheek and she's screaming at me._

"_That's for the constant taunting not thinking that I was ever going to fight back. Well here I am defending myself! It doesn't feel so good does it? Huh?" She pushes me into the lockers behind me, "So now you can leave me the hell alone!" _

_I don't even have time to reply before she turns around on her heel and stamps away. She's all style and sophistication and she just took my breath away. Literally._

"_Dude…" Emmett attempts to whisper and I almost think he's going to ask if I'm alright. "You totally owe me that fifty bucks, I'll take it through credit card, PayPal or good ol' fashioned notes." He's laughing so hard right now with tears streaming down his face._

"_No way man, I'll get her," I promise._

_I'm not sure if he heard or not._

* * *

><p>He shouldn't have promised that.<p>

He shouldn't have. He shouldn't have. He shouldn't have.

* * *

><p><strong>AN- Sorry for the late update! Reviews are welcome!  
><strong>

**Also, I am one of the nominees for the Twific Fandom Awards!**

**I have been nominated for Favorite Ficlette and Favorite Newbie Author so it would be awesome if you guys would vote for me! The link is on my profile!**

**Thanks!**


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